Remedium
by HalcyonSeasons
Summary: When Carlisle develops an antidote to vampirism, Bella never thought that Edward would choose mortality over her. She never thought it would complicate life as she knew it, either. Limits are tested, true colors are exposed, and there is no room for hope as turmoil ensues, threatening to obliterate what was once known as forever. 100 years post-BD AU. Angst galore, of course.
1. Prologue

**Disclaimer: **_Anything you recognize belongs to Stephenie Meyer._

* * *

_**Remedium **_

**Preface**

She'd never given much thought to how she would die. She would never die, though; it was almost like she had known that all along.

Back in a previous life—an easier one, at that—she would have died for _him_. Everything she did would have been for _him_. She had lived for _him_, and when she thought about it, she truly had died for _him_. She had died everyday for _him_ because it had been the right thing to do, and because she had thought it would all work out eventually.

When she thought about it now, there was nothing right about it. Him, her, the idea of him and her. Maybe he'd known that it wasn't right, but he'd done it, anyway. He had been—since he definitely was not now—a villain like that. And of course, that was fine with her. She was a villainess. It was practically her middle name. They were a team, a pair.

But how was it so easy for her to look so fondly in the face of complete innocence and plain, earthly beauty only to shatter it? To anybody else, it wasn't easy; it wasn't _supposed_ to be easy. Everybody had their deal of difficult times to get through, but maybe she'd had just had too many times like this. Maybe she'd been broken somewhere in the middle of this journey, so these times weren't that difficult anymore. They were only difficult for people who had feelings. She wasn't one of those people.

That made a lot of sense—almost too much sense, really.

Looking down at innocent green eyes filled with tears, but not quite releasing them, he held his breath and prayed for his soul. She would pray for hers, too, but it was impossible to pray for something that didn't exist. It was impossible to hope for nothing. She could give five times as much of herself, but five times zero was still zero.

She wanted to say she was sorry, but _sorry_ was just another one of her phrases. It was so classic that it was almost sickening. She had been sorry for bleeding, sorry for crying, and sorry for living. _Sorry_ hadn't done anything, and it never would. When the weak had nothing good of their own to give, what were they to do?

They were to take.

_Sorry_ had no effect, but she knew something that did.

Her hand traced his cheek, light as a feather. She knew keeping him away from the physical pain wouldn't numb the mental, but she couldn't afford to hurt him any more than she might in this moment.

"It will be as if I'd never existed."


	2. Chapter One

**Summary: **_When Carlisle develops a antidote to vampirism in the year of 2116, Bella never thought that Edward would choose mortality over her. She never thought it would complicate life as she knew it, either. Limits are tested, true colors are exposed, and there is no room for hope as turmoil ensues, threatening to obliterate what was once known as forever._

**Warnings: **_Rated M for some language, sexual situations, and themes including suicide and depression. Also, this isn't a happy story._

**Disclaimer:** _Any recognizable names or characters belong entirely to Stephenie Meyer._

* * *

_**Remedium **_

**Act I: Year 2116**

**Chapter One**

Happy tears stung in Renesmee Cullen's eyes. As she looked up at the glass mansion she'd spent her childhood in, she knew she was home. She'd been born and raised in that house, and now, she was back. In a way, it was kind of liberating, even if she was with her family. The move back had practically been her choice, after all.

Esme Cullen, her grandmother—for the lack of a better word—wore a smile as genuine as Renesmee's. They were easily the happiest people to be back, though everyone else was content with the move, too. Renesmee and Esme had always had similar souls, anyway. It only made sense since the former woman had half of the latter woman's name.

Everybody was truly happy to be back, though. There was no denying it. The Olympic Coven had moved around the globe for years and years, yet they had come back to the rainy, bland Forks, Washington so soon. It was _home_, a place to fall back on. A hundred and three years had passed, but that time was relatively short. Time was limitless for creatures like them. Immortality in general was limitless, infinite.

Renesmee hadn't been around for as long as the others, aside from her mother. They'd experienced most of the same things and the same places, and they'd learned that people are fairly the same. Renesmee, though, still believed in this house and all that had happened in it, as well as the people in town, and people in general. She had a lot more hope than what was necessary.

Forks was Renesmee's favorite place. She loved it more than anywhere else in the United States, more than Iceland, more than Australia. To be back was truly a blessing. Everything in her life was a blessing, including the man right by her side, and she was reminded of it every single day with his undivided attention and adoration.

Renesmee squeezed Jacob Black's warm hand a little and turned to him, smiling. "Don't you love it?" she asked him.

Jacob looked down at her with a smile like no other, white and perfect and a lot unlike his current state of mind, but that was a different issue for a different time, and Renesmee had no idea, anyway. Now was Renesmee's time. It was always Renesmee's time, and Jacob didn't know anything different. Nobody really did, but that was just something that took adjustment. "It's amazing, Ness," he told her.

Her smile grew as wide as her satisfaction with having people agree with her. "It really is," she replied.

As Renesmee, Jacob, and the rest of the family entered the house, Renesmee's parents, Bella and Edward Cullen, took their time and approached the premises last. Bella's eyes were as wide as the moon; the house held more personal memories—not particularly good or bad ones, but simply memories—for her than for anybody else, in her mind.

Bella and Edward stopped short just of the front door. Edward sighed and pressed his lips down to Bella's forehead, which was something he liked to utilize—a lot. It was a classic, and Bella thanked the gods for it every single day.

"Home," he said, keeping his lips on her forehead, and his arms wrapped around her tightly like she was going to go anywhere. He didn't have to worry, though; he held forever in his arms right here and right now.

Bella smiled and turned to face him. "Not exactly. There's the cottage."

He chuckled. "There's always the cottage." And with that, he turned, wrapped his arm around her waist, and they started on their way to their real home.

* * *

Secluded and deep in the woods, Edward and Bella's cottage would take a lot of searching for an outsider to locate, so in the century that they'd been gone, the home had remained untouched and pristine, just the way they'd left it. Time in its infinity resumed now.

Running her fingers across the bookshelf in living room, Bella walked carefully, noticing the century's worth of dust that had built up for so long, wanting it gone immediately. A lot of things had been bothering her lately, more than they usually did, and even then, she had always been a sort of lax person when it came to simple things. But Bella's state of mind had been tense, and it still was. She couldn't pinpoint what was exactly troubling her, and that just added on to her predicaments, forming a positive feedback loop that she couldn't wrap her head around.

Edward, her loving husband, couldn't wrap his head around her problem, either, but she couldn't be surprised; she wouldn't let him get into her mind to even try to figure out her issue. That was always the deal with them since she had become immortal. Bella thought she could solve her own difficulties, so she always let them build and build until that solution came, when really, the solution was Edward.

So because he couldn't wrap himself around her mind, Edward wrapped his arms around her body again instead. It had been a strange couple of days for him, too; he just couldn't get enough of Bella, and he never let her go. Crazily enough, they weren't even in danger. Not today. Something had to be brewing inside him, too, only he handled things much better than she did. He was cool; he lived in coolness these days. Bella, not so much.

Bella swayed a little bit in Edward's arms. "_Now_ we're home," she said.

"Could hardly wait," he replied, and then he was kissing her neck, the gateway to getting what he wanted. Her breathing hitched as he clutched her tighter, and it was then that she realized she wasn't cool at all. She'd never been able to keep things under control very well.

"Where's the kid?" she asked in half-seriousness, half-playfulness.

He laughed softly like the angel he was. "Over a hundred of years have passed since we've been back," he said, "and _now_ you decide to worry about where the kid is."

Bella laughed, too, in a much uglier fashion, at least to her. "I guess the kid doesn't matter so much right now."

Edward shook his head, wordless, and then returned his lips to her throat. His body pressed closer to hers, and she arched her back, broke away momentarily, and turned around quickly. If she was human, she would have given herself whiplash. Their lips collided as if they hadn't kissed each other in a century, but it was the home aspect that made things different. The familiarity was prominent, and it made all the difference.

It was a strange thing to come across her mind, but Bella was glad the Cullens had money. If they didn't, then it would have been wasteful and fiscally impossible for her and Edward to be ripping each other's clothes off all the time. If they weren't millionaires (billionaires, perhaps?), they'd be a little more sensible, a little more resourceful. But when had rich people ever been practical? Besides, indulgence was a way of life, and if Bella and Edward together could ever be put into a word, it was indulgent.

And they loved each other—they really did. The whole _forever_ thing was real, and it was still Bella's favorite word. They loved each other and each other's bodies and what they could do in an hour on their living room floor. Bella and Edward loved each other; they told each other every day, during every session of what they liked to do most together, nearly every time they came together.

When his mouth wasn't on her lips, her ownership of him was. With her fingernails gliding across his back, she could have etched her name onto him if she wanted to take the time to, and he wouldn't have minded. He would wear it like the best of tattoos. _Mine, mine, mine._ Both possessive and hungry, Bella's moans complemented Edward's groans. Her cries were the harmony to the melody of his grunts.

To say they had communication problems was a bit of an exaggeration, but neither Bella nor Edward were big on talking to each other when they were so preoccupied. They both had one-track minds, so when Edward began to engage in actual conversation, Bella grew slightly confused.

It was between animalistic noises, fluid hip movements, and greedy _I love you_s when he uttered, "How would you feel if I was human?"

Not taking him seriously, Bella kept her eyes shut and ruffled his soft, bronze hair. Keeping quiet, she peppered kisses along his sharp collarbone and occasionally grazed her teeth along them. A shiver ran through him, and not out of coldness.

"Bella," he said, not letting her ignore him, "how would you feel if I was human?"

_God, he's serious._ She opened her eyes and stared at him. Thrown immediately out of her high, she knit her eyebrows. "Are you okay?" she asked, the atmosphere completely different. _It sure didn't take a lot for that to happen_, she realized.

"Yes, I'm fine," he replied. "I just wanted to know how you would feel."

"Well, I would obviously feel like something is wrong." Her words came out harsh, but so was his silly question. "Are you unhappy with vampirism or something?"

"No," he assured her. "Not at all. I just want to know what it would be like, is all."

"Okay," she said, not believing a word of what he had told her, "but is there a reason why you brought this up? Things have been a little… _edgy_ lately. You know?"

He nodded, but it did nothing for her nerves. He still looked like he was hiding something horrible from her. She could always read him better than he could read her.

"You're right," he told her. "Carlisle, Rosalie, and I have been talking."

She blinked once. "About what?" Again, her words were harsh and as sharp as a knife.

"A cure."

"You make it sound like all of this is a _bad_ thing, Edward." She blinked again. "Are you unhappy with this? All of this?"

He clenched his jaw, the line protruding more than usual. "No, Bella, I am completely happy with life. The idea has been in the air for a few days, though."

Everything about this idea bothered her more than it should have at the moment, but Bella was an easily bothered person. "Of course," she said. "And you decided to tell me nothing."

He sighed as he rubbed little circles into her bare back. "The idea is very premature. It has gotten nowhere yet. There would be a lot of biological breakthroughs to be made for there to even be a rough first examination."

Bella nodded, careful to keep her emotions intact before everything turned way worse than it really was. "Okay," she said.

"Okay," he repeated. "Things are fine, I promise you."

"And you're happy?" she asked.

"I'm happy," he confirmed. "But your happiness is far more important. Are you happy?"

"I'm happy," she assured him.

"And you trust me?"

"I trust you. Forever."

Then he brought his lips to her forehead as if to simply clear her head of everything he had put into it just moments ago. It was as if she had a _clear memory_ button he could push every time he worried her, and all of a sudden, everything was okay. All of a sudden, he was forgiven and all of his impetuous words meant nothing. Classic.

He wasn't happy with vampirism and wanted to be human. Classic.

"Do you want to go to the main house?" he asked her gently. There was no point in asking, but that was the gallant thing to do, even as they obviously couldn't return to their previous state of euphoria.

Bella untangled herself from his body, stood up, and started walking down the hall to her closet for some fresh clothes. "Let's go," she called to him.

He remained on the wooden floor for a few moments longer. He had the feeling that she didn't trust a word he had said. Words just didn't seem to be enough for her. She would see, though, later on. She would have to.

* * *

At the main house, the other members of the Olympic Coven had resumed their activities as if they hadn't gone away. That was their default setting in Forks, since the town didn't particularly have many sightseeing opportunities they hadn't taken or interesting stores they hadn't shopped at. Over time, the stores had closed down and similar other ones had taken their places. Nobody had ever considered building a shopping mall or anything remotely resembling a name brand, though. Never.

Forks' longevity really surprised Renesmee, honestly. It was a tiny town that had nothing to thrive for. It didn't have tourist spots or anything special about it besides the boring title of the Logging Capital of the World. Renesmee felt sad for the town and its residents, but slightly proud at the same time. Forks was a durable little place that was nice to return to for her, but it didn't hold the same feeling for Jacob.

Resuming old activities like everybody else—Esme sitting at one end of the dining room table with her sketchpad and a pencil; Alice and Jasper talking quietly amongst themselves at the bottom of the staircase; Rosalie and Emmett building a house of cards at the other end of the dining room table after he had set up the cable system; and Carlisle in the library upstairs—Renesmee and Jacob sat on the leather couch in front of the television set. Jacob gazed absently at the plasma TV, his attention fixed on nothing in particular.

Jacob hadn't told Renesmee yet, but he was depressed. She should have known, but he hadn't been vocal enough with her lately to make it official. She had not even the slightest idea that he was depressed—that was what happened when she got too wrapped up in her own mind and stayed there for too long.

Somewhere in his own nearly vacant mind, Jacob knew why he was like this. It was obvious: everybody he had once truly known was now dead. Gone. Buried six feet underground.

Living with the Cullens since imprinting on Renesmee had taken Jacob away from the Quileutes. It was still in his blood, but the culture and people he'd known had been away from him for a while. By the time his father, Billy, had passed away, Jacob had been completely disconnected, but he hadn't been the last to know. He knew his family wouldn't treat him like that.

Still, though, everybody else was dead. They'd been dead for years, and their grandchildren and great-grandchildren were still around, but it wasn't nearly the same. His nieces and nephews could never replace his sisters or his lost friends. Only Jacob was senseless enough to phase forever, all for his imprint. Paul hadn't, Jared hadn't, Seth hadn't, Leah hadn't, and nobody else had, either. Only Jacob was that stupid. Only Jacob was too foolish to not think of a compromise.

The only times he had come around to see his old friends and family since he'd settled in with the Cullens were for the weddings and the funerals. Of his original pack, as well as Sam's, Jacob had attended everybody's wedding and everybody's funeral. Embry Call had looked so happy—_just so goddamn happy and still free_—when he'd gotten married so long ago. And Jacob had kept tabs on him, just like he had with everybody else, but he had definitely become a stranger, so to find out that Embry had passed away due to a stroke in his old age was hard. Really hard. Embry was the first of Jacob's friends—as well as his best friend—to go, and Jacob had been sad for a while, but it was the complications that made him realize that life carried on and people changed with time. It was difficult to believe in that since he wasn't changing at all, but that took time. Jacob had a lot of it, and he would continue to spend all of it with Renesmee, the love of his life that he'd hardly even shared a few kisses with.

So life never really resumed for Jacob Black. He wasn't allowed to _live._ Quiet and inattentive, Jacob continued to stare at the television as the commercials and programs passed him by. Every once in a while, he would see a girl make a snarky expression that reminded him so much of Leah Clearwater that it hurt. He missed her more now than ever. And then he'd see a guy grin after telling a dumb joke, and it was Quil. He saw Quil in a lot of things, too. His old friends were around him more posthumously than when they had been living.

Forks wasn't home to Jacob. No, it wasn't anything like home.

It was a goddamn graveyard.

* * *

Edward and Bella entered the main house together, and were greeted by everybody. Silently, Bella sat on the couch next to Renesmee, and Edward went upstairs to meet Carlisle in the library. Rosalie followed behind him. As much as Bella wanted to believe Edward's words, she couldn't. What else could they be discussing in secret, and why would it matter if the idea was so premature?

"Hey, Mom," Nessie said casually. She held Jacob's hand, rubbing it, but he was unresponsive. Both Renesmee and Jacob were used to that.

"Hey, sweetheart," Bella replied.

"Is Dad all right?" Nessie blurted. So it wasn't just Bella who could see that.

With her lips pressed into a hard line, Bella nodded. "Of course."

Bella's gaze was fixed on the TV, and Renesmee couldn't help but join in. It was another quiet day in Forks, almost like they had never left to begin with.

But all that Bella could think about, naturally, was Edward. Edward and his current afflictions.

She didn't like to admit it, but loving Edward Cullen was especially easy because he was beautiful. He wouldn't have been particularly loveable if he'd been any other way. He was brilliant, but lacked any endearing qualities, but Bella wasn't entirely crazy about all of that. She could deal with his broodiness; she'd been fascinated by it from the start.

Bella had always been prone to admiring people and places and things, but loving them, on the other hand, was especially hard in the aspect that she had only known of two different kinds of love in her earlier years. Jacob had selfishly compromised her views, but he'd never fully changed them since it had been so difficult for her to let the idea of sharing the same kind of love approach her mind. She had never wanted to think about it because at the time, it had sounded so absurd.

So her views on love were just a little twisted and confused, but she knew that she did love Edward in a way, and his splendor had always contributed to it. Her love for him was only solidified by his beauty, but now he wanted to give it all away. He wasn't happy. She knew him. He couldn't have been happy if he had brought up the idea of a cure in the first place.

It was a selfish idea, really, and that was coming from her. He was willing to give up beauty, a considerable part of her love, and perfection all for a chance at what could have been. It didn't make sense to Bella. People who dwelled on the past and its desires didn't make sense to Bella.

But Edward had asked for trust, so the least that Bella could do was give it to him. She wasn't a teddy bear that said, "I trust you" at every rash idea once somebody pulled the string, though. She should have had a say in all of this, no matter how premature.

"I'll see you later, guys," Bella told Renesmee and the zombie that had taken Jacob's place. "I'm gonna go check on Edward."

Nessie, completely enthralled in the television program, nodded. "See ya," she said without taking her eyes away from the screen.

Bella got up from the couch and made her way up the staircase. She might as well find out the minimal facts as soon as possible.

* * *

_**A/N: **__This is Remedium. Feedback is always appreciated._

_HalcyonSeasons_


	3. Chapter Two

**Chapter Two**

Emmett slapped a playing card down onto the table, face up. It was an ace. "Hit?" he asked Jacob.

"Nah,"Jacob said with a slight shake of his head. "Stay."

Emmett flipped over the other card, and it was a ten. "Twenty-one. Perfect."

"You're goddamn right," Jacob said.

Renesmee flicked her fingers across the screen of her tablet, simultaneously playing a puzzle game, looking at luxurious lake homes in Seattle, and fawning over wedding dresses that she would never wear anytime soon, sadly enough. _Oh, woe is me,_ she thought bitterly.

Concentrated on her device, she didn't look at Bella when she spoke to her, which Bella was used to.

"Did you talk to Dad?" Nessie asked Bella absentmindedly.

"No," Bella said, kicking herself for it. On her way to the library earlier, she had chickened out, swallowed her pride, and decided that the minuscule details of the "cure" (she still hated that word) were none of her business. If she was supposed to know, then she would have. She shouldn't have gotten so worked up about it.

So Bella had decided to take a break. It had been a long fucking day, and tonight felt like it would last forever. Winter nights often felt like an eternity.

Edward, Carlisle, and Rosalie had been upstairs all day, and even though it shouldn't have bothered Bella, it did. The key word for the day was _bothered. _Bella was just _so fucking bothered_. Edward was the key to it all being over, but he was still upstairs.

"Why not?" Renesmee asked.

Bella struggled to find the right words to say in front of everybody else. If they didn't know much of the ordeal, then it didn't matter. _It doesn't matter_, Bella told herself. _It really does not fucking matter._

"Walk with me to my place," Bella said.

"Sure."

Bella and Nessie stood up, and Jacob shortly did, too, once he set his cards down. "You don't have to come," Nessie quickly told him, and he didn't.

The two women made their quiet escape, and once they were out of the house and in the woods, Bella sighed and began.

"I'm worried about your father," she said.

Nessie's brown eyes widened, alarmed. "Is he in danger? Is it the Vol—?"

"No, no, it's nothing like that."

"Then what's going on?"

Bella had never been good with words, but now the words were nearly impossible to get out. Her mind was wavering, and nothing had even happened yet. _Nothing is happening,_ she told herself.

"Mom," Renesmee said sternly. "If it's so big, then I should probably know about it."

"But it's not big," Bella said, backtracking. "It's not. I think I'm just making it into a big deal."

Renesmee bit the inside of her cheek. "Well, you're freaking me out."

_I am such an idiot_, Bella thought. "How are you?" she suddenly asked.

"Aside from the fact that my mother is hiding something from me and claiming whatever she's freaking out is not a big deal," Nessie replied bitingly, "then I'm fine."

"How's Jacob?"

"Quiet." Just one word. That was all there was to him now.

Bella nodded. "Mm-hm."

The woods and everything in them fell silent. The silence was interrupted occasionally only by footsteps or twigs snapping under them on the frozen ground, but other than that, the night was silent and empty. It was a cloudy January night, and not even the stars would shine.

"I'm so tired of all of it," Renesmee finally admitted. "He's been in such a bad place for _years_ now. Something's gotta happen sometime, you know?" She didn't wait for Bella to reply. "I've been static for too long, and so has Jacob. I just don't want to wait anymore."

Bella waited for her to be finished. "What is it that you're waiting for?" she wondered.

Renesmee turned to her, not being able to see her mother's brown eyes in the dark. What she was going to say was going to come out badly, but Bella would understand. Bella always understood Renesmee and her ways, even if they were selfish and completely missing the point.

"I'm waiting for my life to start."

* * *

For the next two months, life in the Cullen residences was static as usual. Jacob was hushed. Renesmee didn't speak to him on it. Bella fell back into submissive ignorance. Edward proved from time to time again that he was definitely happy.

It was easy to be unchanging when one didn't have the choice, but now that the idea of a choice was floating around in the air (but never officially addressed), being more excited than usual was common. And it was on the last day of winter when the excitement reached fever pitch, because it was finally the time when Carlisle informed the rest of the household of the cure.

"In a collaborative effort," he announced, standing in the middle of the living room, "Edward, Rosalie, and I have developed a remedy for vampirism."

Alice spoke up first. She must have had a response brewing in her for ages. She saw it coming, after all. "I didn't know it was a sickness to begin with," she said. Bella smiled to herself. _That's my girl._

"We're not considering it a _sickness_, exactly," Rosalie said. "But I had the idea a few months before the move back to Forks, and Edward was also interested, so we came to Carlisle. It was a really interesting process and I think—no, I am positive, actually—that it will work out in the end."

"Is there something else you would like to tell us?" Esme asked calmly, her attention on Carlisle.

"That's just it," he said. "With scientific breakthroughs, we have developed something that could work wonders for those who didn't have a choice and would like one now."

Rosalie was beaming. She was as happy as a little kid on Christmas morning. "It's a really wonderful thing," she said.

"Yes," Edward agreed, staying tranquil. His eyes flashed from Esme to Jasper, and then from Jasper to Alice. "We were also going to consult with Tanya so—"

"What makes you think she—or any of them—would want to try it?" Alice asked.

_Yes!_ Bella thought. _Exactly!_

"Let's be positive about this, Alice," Edward said. If only he could shut her off. "There is the chance that they actually are interested," he added.

"I really cannot see how or why this is a good idea." Alice's words were as sharp as a knife.

"Just because you can't see it doesn't mean it isn't," Rosalie told Alice. "I personally think this is a really bold and innovative step for science, and—"

"It's not about science," Jasper said quietly, forcing everybody to listen. "You three"—his eyes darted between Carlisle, Rosalie, and Edward—"are not at all concerned with science." He rested his eyes on Carlisle. "Or at least Rosalie and Edward aren't. This is merely for your own personal gain, and I don't need to be a mind-reader to tell."

"Can you _not_ see how absolutely _genius_ this is?" Rosalie demanded. Her eyes were wide and wild. "This isn't about anybody's personal gain, Jasper. We can help people who are willing to be helped, and it's practically perfect. The cure is fully developed and ready for use. If you don't like it, then don't take it, but it's very unfair of you to minimize the magnitude of this discovery. You cannot shut the remedy down merely because you're uninterested in taking it."

"I think this calls for a survey," Carlisle said, and with that, Jasper made the room and the people who occupied it relax. Carlisle looked to Alice, and then went around the living room.

"I would not like to be 'cured,'" Alice said. "I don't remember what it was like to be human, and I wouldn't want to find out, even if the remedy is as perfect as you all make it sound."

Bella, who sat next to Alice, spoke next. "I don't wanna try it. I just don't think it would work, despite the claims of it being perfect." _I also value beauty and immortality too much to give it all away._

"I'll try it," Edward said. Bella turned quickly to look at him, and he didn't bother to look back; he kept his focus on Carlisle. "If it doesn't work, then it doesn't work. But I know it will work."

"I understand your reasoning and I do believe it will work," Jasper said, "but I would not like to try it."

"Emmett?" Carlisle asked.

"I mean, I guess I'll do it," Emmett said. "Can't be that bad." He and Rosalie grinned at each other; Bella and Alice looked visibly disgusted.

"This doesn't apply to me," Renesmee said, "so pass." She was bitter as hell, but Jacob couldn't have a problem with it; none of this applied to him, either.

Esme gave a sad smile. Carlisle held her hand and gave a slight squeeze. "You don't have to if you don't want to," he murmured.

"Thank you," she mouthed.

"And you, Carlisle?" Jasper asked.

"I feel as if I cannot accomplish what I can now if I was human again," Carlisle said proudly, yet not arrogantly. "I am old, though, and I wouldn't mind leaving, but I would prefer to remain immortal."

Everybody nodded in understanding. Everybody except Bella. Her eyes stayed on Edward.

"I'm going to call Tanya," Rosalie announced as she got up from the couch. Tall and full of pride, she was going to get what she wanted. It only took almost two hundred years.

"Look at me," Bella whispered to Edward. He didn't respond. She glared at him and spoke again. "I told you to _fucking look at me_."

"Are you really going to start a scene right now?" Edward asked, his voice low and his topaz eyes on Bella's. Without a care in the world, he was totally unfazed.

"If you wanted to kick me in the face," Bella said, "then you should have just done it."

He knit his brow. "What do you even...?"

"It wouldn't have been even half as painful as what you just did now, Edward."

Edward closed his eyes and shook his head. "I think you're overreacting, and now is not the time."

"I think," Bella replied, "that you've just ruined everything."

"You're being kind of a problem right now, don't you think?" he asked.

"No," she answered brightly with a sly smile, "but I'm going to be."

* * *

_**A/N: **On the real, though, I do plan on finishing this story. Thanks for the reviews, follows, and favorites. They are always appreciated._

_HalcyonSeasons_


	4. Chapter Three

**Chapter Three**

Rosalie cornered Bella at the driveway, grabbing the latter woman's arm. "Are you out of your goddamn mind!?" she exclaimed.

Bella tried to tugged her arm away, but Rosalie's strength prevailed. "Not now, Rose,."

The blonde whipped the brunette around and held her with both arms, her golden eyes wide and primitive. "You're going to be a _problem_, Bella? Is that it?"

Bella shook her head, embarrassed. "Stop, Rose."

"You're going to be a _problem_ now?" Rosalie repeated. "What the hell does that even _mean? _Have you lost your mind!?"

"This is none of your business," Bella said quietly, "so let me go."

"Bella, this is _all_ of our business!" Rosalie was so disgusted that she could have spit. She _should_ have spit, in all honesty. What Bella had said was way out of line. Didn't she know that? Would she ever take responsibility?

Bella managed to get one of her arms free and shoved Rosalie with it using all the power she contained in her body, but Rosalie, solid as a rock, kept her stance.

"What is your problem?" Rose demanded. "If you don't care for the remedy, don't take it!"

"I won't, Rosalie," Bella said slowly, just to make sure she heard her correctly. "I am not going to take the fucking remedy."

"Then why are you going to cause trouble for the rest of us?" Rosalie asked sharply. "Why the hell did you even think of saying that?"

Bella hadn't been thinking at all, honestly. If Bella was anything special—besides the obvious thing—then she was all bark and no bite. She could banter and threaten for days but still never do anything huge, and now she was going to have to deal with everything she'd dished out. It was only fair to everyone, but to her, it just wasn't fair at all.

"Edward is my husband," Bella stated.

"And he'll still be your husband once he's human," Rosalie reminded her, letting go. "You know that, right?"

"I do know," Bella admitted, "but it won't be the same."

Rosalie's eyes were honest. "If it works out okay, he can always go back."

"Well, I don't trust any part of this. I just don't want him taking that chance because of the possibility of things not going as planned." Bella sighed, exasperated. "Why do all of you trust this so-called cure?"

"Bella, it's not the chance of it working that you're worried about."

Rosalie might as well be a mind-reader; she could read Bella like a book.

"You're just worried about your little forever, aren't you?" Rosalie asked condescendingly.

"Practice what you preach," Bella told her. "Don't knock my desires down just because you don't have the same ones."

Rosalie crossed her arms and raised and eyebrow. "Oh, so this is _definitely_ about your desires."

Bella sneered. "My bad for caring about my future."

Rosalie's voice wasn't condescending this time, making Bella like her a little bit more in the moment. "You're insecure, aren't you, Bella?"

"You're not helping, you know."

"You're insecure about your future," Rosalie stated matter-of-factly.

"You would be, too," Bella replied, her face blank, "if you had it set for being perfect for so long. You would be _so_ insecure, Rosalie, if your future was suddenly jeopardized because of some stupid way to take it all back. You would be upset. You would be insecure, Rose. You would be terrified."

And it was then that Bella realized she had exposed practically everything, and to Rosalie, at that. More vulnerable than ever in the past century, Bella stared at the destroyer of everything she'd had going for her. And it was also then that Bella realized she would never forgive Rosalie. She would refuse to.

_Don't ruin my forever,_ Bella wanted to say. But what was the use? What change would it make? The plans were set in stone, as well as Bella's unhappiness.

* * *

The Denali coven, composed of Tanya, Kate, Garrett, Carmen, and Eleazar arrived in Forks two days later, having driven from Alaska. Spring had sprung, but the Forks air was still cold. There was still room for change, though.

Unwilling to be cured, the Denali coven planned on sticking around to watch the transformations and also to give each other mutual support, since they all considered each other cousins. Once they arrived, business almost began.

Esme insisted on saying last goodbyes; she didn't think the remedy would fail, but, caring for who she considered her children, she wanted to say goodbye to the vampire versions of them. She was positive that Rosalie, Emmett, and Edward would never go back. Everybody was. Even Bella.

So in their last moments, Rosalie, Emmett, and Edward were showered with hugs from everybody. Despite her dispute with Rosalie two days prior to the bittersweet goodbyes, Bella would miss Rosalie, and she told her.

"I'm not leaving for good yet," Rosalie assured her. "I'll still be me. Just different."

Emmett told Bella, his "little sister," to try not to eat him when he turned back, all while giving her a giant hug that she knew would be softer and warmer when he came back. She would be heartbroken if Emmett didn't come back.

Bella was the last (besides Renesmee) to say goodbye to Edward, and while she was angry, he was still her husband. While she was more than likely going to be a problem without meaning to or not, she still loved him. With time, Edward had grown to fit the unconditional love Bella had for Renesmee, though Edward made Bella much more temperamental. But still—Bella had died for the both of them. And it angered her, really made her _boil _with anger, that Edward was allowing himself to eventually die without her, if he would enjoy being human so much, though he hadn't anticipated on it.

It was just all so unbalanced. So Bella was angry, but not angry as she could have been; he'd be back, after all. She didn't believe the remedy would kill him; she just thought it wouldn't work. But she knew Edward, and she knew that he would adore being human with or without her. And though she highly doubted it would ever happen (because Edward still adored her and he would always adore her for the rest of time), there was still the slim, slim chance that he would leave her.

He would leave her _again_, this time for being human.

And she would boil with anger over it for the rest of eternity. She would much rather be angry and immortal than even and dead. She had too much pride for that.

Once his moment was done with Bella, Edward spent his very last vampire moments with Renesmee. She was still a daddy's girl, though they had been out of sync. While she had never really discussed the remedy with her mother or father (since they had both been trying to prove they were happy to each other over the past two months), she'd spent a lot of time with Jacob. She hadn't asked him much about his depression; they'd never really touched upon it or came clean on it. They'd spent most of their time on fake, annoying bullshit, but it was still time, and they had a lot of it. She didn't have much time with her father, though, and they both knew it, so everyone left Edward and Renesmee to be alone. Their moments belonged to them.

As Renesmee and Edward talked in private for a few minutes, Jacob was left desolate and on the balcony with Kate, Garrett, and Carmen of the Denali coven. It was Kate who had initially sparked up small talk with him.

"You're looking good," she told him politely.

A fake smile was plastered onto Jacob's face. "Thanks," he said.

"Still young, too," she observed. "It's almost like you're one of us."

"Might as well be, huh?"

Kate smiled; he couldn't tell if it was genuine or not. "Might as well," she agreed.

"How has life been treating you?" Garrett, Kate's boyfriend who she never planned on marrying yet always planned on being with, asked Jacob.

"Good," Jacob replied. "It's all been pretty good, I guess."

"Nice, man. Real nice."

As dazzling as vampires were supposed to be, they weren't huge on conversation with werewolves, no matter how long a certain one had been around. Jacob leaned against the bar and stared out to the forest. It wasn't a big place; he'd figured it out over three days, one time. He'd explored every part of it, alone. The world wasn't a big place when he knew it would always be there and he would always have time to experience it. Maybe that was why living people used the mantra _you only live once_ to the death: there was always a thrill in the rush of living, because living was something to be excited about when it wasn't permanent.

"You seem tired, Jacob," Carmen said. With a soft Spanish accent and eyes that were easy to trust, Carmen had a nice presence. She was easily Jacob's favorite of the Denali coven, though he often thought of them as one working machine.

And he was tired, too. He was _exhausted_, and it wasn't the kind of weariness that could be fixed with eight good hours of sleep. Carmen understood, though, and she understood his ties to Renesmee at the same time, and it made all the difference in the world.

Jacob sighed long and hard. "I am," he replied. "I really am."

And then Carmen touched Jacob on the arm in the most compassionate way, and it didn't matter that she felt like ice to the touch. Nothing else (besides Renesmee) mattered.

Somewhere along in the last century that had passed, Jacob could have—_should_ have—been treated with some form of sympathy, but somewhere, he'd been lost for good. It was Carmen's acknowledgment that made him a little bit braver, a little bit brighter. That one acknowledgment didn't immediately fix his depression, and it shouldn't have immediately fixed his depression, but it was a much-needed acknowledgment. Carmen had been the only one to take the time to understand, or at least attempt to understand what was visible on the surface.

The difference that one acknowledgment could make truly amazed Jacob.

* * *

Carlisle had turned an extra room on the third floor of the house into a sort of medical room. Rosalie would be changing first, and when she sat down on the experiment table with her bare legs up, clad in a hospital gown, everybody gathered around, but not too close; Carlisle still needed space to work.

"I'm going to explain the process as I go through the steps," Carlisle announced smoothly.

Eleazar, Carmen's husband, held his chin in his hand, focusing intensely on the tools that Carlisle had laid out. He didn't doubt Carlisle's abilities at all—he could never—but he was very interested in the science parts of the process.

Carlisle looked down at Rosalie, "Are you ready?" he asked softly.

"Yes," she whispered.

Carlisle shifted his focus to the group of spectators in the room. "Venom," he stated, "is a retrovirus. It works similarly to HIV, for example: it changes the DNA. I, with the enthusiastic help of Rosalie and Edward, have formed a retrovirus that serves as an antidote to venom and, eventually, vampirism. I don't personally see vampirism as a sickness or disease of some sorts; this is simply a key to existing differently than before."

Standing between Bella and Renesmee, Edward gave both their hands a squeeze. Renesmee squeezed back, not upset (however more understanding) with her father's decision, but still very nervous about the process. Bella remained frozen, using ignorance as a quick way to coerce him out of his decision. If only it would work.

In his left hand, Carlisle held up a small beaker containing a purple liquid that glinted in the light. In his right hand, he held a clear glass containing blood. Based on the smell, it was human blood, which caused a small stirring among the group, but nothing too noticeable.

Pouring the purple liquid into the blood, Carlisle spoke again. "The elixir mixes in almost instantly with the blood, and when Rosalie drinks it, her eyes will briefly change color, and she will fall asleep." He handed the glass to Rosalie. "All in one gulp, please," he advised her.

She did as told, and almost instantly—a human would miss it, and if Renesmee blinked, she would miss it all—Rosalie's eyes flashed quickly from red, then to blue, and then to white before closing completely. She fell onto her back, her blonde hair sprawled across the layer of paper between her and the table.

"That's it?" Renesmee asked quietly.

"Shhh..." Edward shushed her. "Watch."

Suddenly, Rosalie started coughing, and a clear liquid began burbling out of her closed mouth. In that moment, Alice and Jasper promptly exited the room, like they were viewing something unholy. They left totally unacknowledged.

Carlisle laid Rosalie on her side as she coughed up the rest of the liquid into a silver container on the floor. "Her body is getting rid of the venom," he explained.

Within minutes, Rosalie started dry-heaving, and Bella winced. "This is like a goddamn exorcism," she muttered as Carlisle shifted onto her back.

"Her heaving indicates there is no more venom in her body, so it is now time to start the blood transfusions," Carlisle explained as he carefully forced a fine tube into Rosalie's skin. The tube connected to a machine, and when Carlisle pushed a button, it started to pump blood and Rosalie stopped dry-heaving. "Her skin is already slightly more vulnerable, but still very tough," he noted. "It is similar to the texture of Renesmee's skin."

"How do you know Rosalie's blood type?" Eleazar wondered aloud.

"When I was initially reviving Rosalie, along with Emmett, Edward, and everyone else who I had changed," Carlisle replied, "I took note of their blood types in the hopes of doing transfusions. Making people immortal is hardly ever my prerogative."

"Ah." Eleazar nodded.

"The heart has already started pumping blood," Carlisle said to the group, "and as it pumps blood throughout Rosalie's body, her cells will unfreeze faster and faster. Rosalie will become warmer and begin to sort of... relax. This contrasts to the reverse process, in which the person becomes colder and stiffens."

Various heads nod in agreement, and Carlisle goes on. "Rosalie's DNA is changing again, and it will take approximately one and a half weeks for the process to be complete and for her to awaken again."

"So what happens now?" Emmett asked, staring down at Rosalie's unconscious body.

"Now," Carlisle said, "we wait."

* * *

And everybody waited. Over the course of the next week and a half, Rosalie's blood transfusions stopped eventually, but interior changes still occurred. Carlisle, Esme, Emmett, Edward, and Eleazar waited in the medical room nearly the entire time (Carlisle, Esme, and Eleazar still had to go hunting), watching over Rosalie. With time, Carlisle knew the time was coming, so he called everybody to return. Even Alice and Jasper came in to see the grand finale.

Rosalie's grumbling stomach was heard before her voice, and that indicated that the transformation was over. Warm, soft, and significantly slower than before, Rosalie fluttered her eyes open, and they were dark blue—nearly violet—which was her human color.

"Rosalie," Carlisle said. "How do you feel?"

The room was absolutely silent.

"Real," was what she said.

Obsessed with her heartbeat, weaker eyesight, less defined hearing, a slight headache from having less room in her head, and the feeling of intense hunger for human food, Rosalie was definitely human, though still a bit pale, in obvious need of some sunlight. The only complaint she had was that she didn't remember how to use the bathroom like an adult at first, which would take work. Other than that, she was happy-go-lucky, and being surrounded by vampires, she didn't feel much less confident in regards to her looks. She was still gorgeous, but on a human level, and even then, she knew that that didn't matter. Rosalie was _human._

Emmett's process was virtually the same, but with more venom to throw up, more blood to be transfused, and more time to change, taking two more days than Rosalie, all due to his size. When he was finally finished, his eyes were baby blue and his first words were, "Carlisle, I'm as blind as a bat."

"Did you wear glasses when you were human?" Carlisle responded.

Blinking excessively, Emmett shook his head. "Nah."

"All right, then. We'll get you some glasses." Nobody would have guessed that Emmett Cullen, brawny and tough, was nearsighted and could wear black-framed glasses like a (very human) model.

Esme and Carmen had the patience, but Jacob had the experience, so while Edward was transforming last, Rosalie and Emmett were guided through human courses while also occasionally getting checkups and immunizations from Carlisle. Bella and Renesmee watched over Edward's transformation entirely, along with Eleazar and Carlisle. Not taking as long as Emmett's, Edward's metamorphosis was similar to the previous two trials. Carlisle's discovery was solid.

Holding Edward's hand, Bella felt his pulse as he prepared to awaken once his most vital organs were working again. Bella's eyes were closed once Edward opened his, but she felt him move just slightly, forcing her to open her eyes.

His green eyes were the first things she saw of him. They were the eyes that Bella had never experienced firsthand prior to now, but the eyes that she had always wanted Renesmee to have. Those eyes glimmered like emeralds, but with golden flecks, too, and they focused up on the ceiling. Edward couldn't see the details that he usually could.

Looking still very pale but downright surprised, Edward blinked a few times. Then he focused on Bella, moving up the corners of his mouth in a weak smile.

"There was nothing to worry about," he said, his voice as weak and dry as his smile.

"Can you still read minds or something?" Bella wondered, her voice quiet, but still loud enough for him to hear. She still clutched his hand, but now leaned in closely. She felt his pulse everywhere, especially in her throat.

"No," he said, "but it wasn't hard to guess."

Bella smiled, not showing her teeth. "Well, you got me."

* * *

_**A/N: **Feedback is still appreciated. Questions are, too._

_Thanks so much,_

_HalcyonSeasons_


	5. Chapter Four

**Chapter Four**

A bead of sweat trickled down the back of Renesmee's neck, forcing her to wipe it away and quickly fasten her hair into a knot at the top of her head. As soon as she had she moved her arms away from her pamphlet, all the once open pages had flipped close, and she successfully lost her place.

"Goddamn it," she whispered, careful not to draw too much attention from her classmates.

Summer didn't really start in Washington—even with the minimal global warming that had slowly but surely added with time—until July. Coincidentally, summer classes at the Peninsula College in Port Angeles didn't start until July, either, and there Renesmee and Jacob were, bright and somewhat early on July first. It wasn't the first time they'd gone to college, but things were different now, and Jacob hadn't been here in over a century.

Because Renesmee didn't feel like going away to a university so soon but wanted to escape her strange parents, PenCol was the ideal place. With her parents always doing the restrained, vampire-human, lovey-dovey shit (that she had graciously missed out on the first time) at home all the time, she felt even more alienated than usual, which was fucking huge to her. It wasn't huge enough to get her to move out, though. House-hunting was a bore, but she refused to let anyone else pick out a place. Community college was God's gift.

"You were on page twenty-six, Ness," Jacob told her, scanning his own pamphlet. He found it interesting how he'd decided to wait all this time to take criminal justice. It had been about time, honestly, and he was already enticed. It was incredible—with all this bottomless time, he could do just about anything.

"Thanks, Jake," Renesmee replied.

"Has anyone else in the family taken criminal justice some time or another?" Jacob wondered.

"Uncle Emmett, I think. Maybe my mom, too."

He nodded. "We should ask for pointers or something to get the main gist of it, you know?"

"Uncle Emmett's the way to go, then," she stated. "My mom's _way_ too busy." She rolled her brown eyes.

"Yeah, okay," Jacob replied sarcastically. "What could she possibly be busy with?"

"Oh, you know, the usual. Staring into my dad's _gorgeous_ green eyes as they lay down in an empty field or whatnot. That kinda boring romantic stuff."

Jacob chuckled. "That sounds a little bit too much like them."

She laughed softly. "Right?"

The lightness suddenly faded, and their little conversation was shrunken down to a whisper of how social they could actually be with each other. She couldn't get upset with him, though; she shouldn't have gotten her hopes up over nearly nothing.

He wiped a bead of sweat from her forehead, and she couldn't help but wish she could lick it off. Her ways were very conflicted in that way—sometimes she wanted to get him to open up again and touch him with her words in order for him to speak up after all this time, and other times she wanted to skip all of that and just touch him. She wanted to kiss his face, his chest, his everything. She wanted to kiss the lost words out of him and into her. Then she would understand his strange weather a little bit more. Her confusion was half-fueled with the endless desire to jump his bones with all the might in her body. She'd learned to suppress it with time, though, so it was always on the back burner, sometimes more prominent than other times, including now. She had places to go and things to do; constantly wetting her panties over him would be so distracting.

But understanding him just wasn't in the cards for her; the stars would never be aligned for Renesmee to understand Jacob Black and his silence. Alice had mentioned it one time to her, something about depression, but Renesmee didn't want to believe it. _Her_ Jacob, the Jacob who had everything in the world, depressed? It just didn't add up. He had never expressed suicidal thoughts or anything, but there was the possibility (and she knew it) that he didn't have to be suicidal for something to be wrong.

It wasn't her job to worry, though. Worrying had never been a familiar feeling for Renesmee, but it wasn't her fault. Living with the Cullens, she was never put in an environment where she had to worry about anybody she loved, because everybody was in the family. She had never had many friends, mostly because she couldn't connect with people her age, and she strongly believed that there was nobody on this planet who could connect with her. There was Jacob and the rest of the family, but there were, albeit, different.

Worrying wasn't familiar for Renesmee, but loneliness was. That wasn't her fault, though; she couldn't help her conditions.

Only it actually _was_ her fault. She had the power to change. She had all the power in the world.

So self-doubt and some slight self-loathing were common feelings, too, as well as narcissism, but it had been enough.

_It's not always about just me, me, me__, _she reminded herself. A little bit of self-identifying (Jacob would call it self-demeaning if he knew) kept her feeling like a humble, tiny aspect of the universe when everybody else expected her to be oozing with pride and as vast as the universe itself.

When Renesmee looked at Jacob, she knew their problems were bigger than just the combination of just their individual lists. Their problems could have been just as tremendous as the very universe they occupied small parts of, but there was no way to tell. There was no way to explore that when they stood on opposite ends of that amazing universe. And that was what hurt her the most. And somewhere in his mind, in the parts that weren't completely numb, that hurt him, too. And the private, shared pain was what made all the difference.

They shared a public smile that hurt the both of them even further.

* * *

Renesmee came bustling into the cottage she still lived in with her parents that night, and her mother shushed her the moment she stepped in. "Your father's sleeping," Bella explained. She was snuggled on the couch with her nose in a book.

Nessie quietly set her keys down on the coffee table. "Oh, shit, sorry." Then she sat down on the couch next to Bella, who was stiffer than usual.

"Do you want to tell me why you're home at eleven on a school night?" the older woman asked. She flipped the page in her book. It smelled of various, uncorrelated scents and had water-damaged pages with ink that had bled plenty of times. It was the oldest book Renesmee had seen these days.

"I'm in college," she reminded her mother. "It's different."

"And?"

"And Jacob and I went to dinner after class," Nessie explained, "and then we watched a couple of movies on his computer." She undid her hair knot and shook out her bronze tresses, relaxing.

"How were the movies?" Bella asked.

"They were good. _The Avengers_ was awesome. I felt indifferent about _Let Me In._"

"Did you see the original _Avengers_?"

Renesmee let out a single _ha_. "I wish," she said. "We couldn't find it for shit on the internet. We watched the third remake. It was almost as good as the original, though."

"That's nice to know." Bella's voice was totally absent.

Nessie peeked over her shoulder down onto the pages of her book. "Where'd you find a physical novel?" she asked.

Bella looked at Nessie with a smirk that had pride dripping from it. "I scavenged the entire town for it once Edward fell asleep."

"All of two blocks," Nessie replied. "_Amazing."_

"It is, trust me. Reading on devices is okay, but you know how I am about my books."

Nessie nodded and snuggled into the couch with her mother. Bella closed her book and set it down on the coffee table. With a free hand, she stroked her daughter's hair. "How was your day?" Bella asked.

"Typical."

"Typical?"

"Very much so." Nessie's eyes scanned the living room. "Tell me why the main house is all updated and fresh and everything while ours is still a century behind on trends? We've been back for six months now."

"You know how I feel about vintage things," Bella said. They chuckled. "But in all honesty, things have just been busy around here."

"How?"

"There are other things to get used to right now," Bella explained, "so we'll have to catch up on our home decor later."

Nessie nodded. "Do you have plans?"

"Not currently."

They were silent. Renesmee took six inhales and six exhales (Bella counted) before she spoke again.

"How was your day, Mom?"

"It was different," Bella said. _Different_ had been her favorite word lately, quickly replacing _forever_, though her heart had been so set on it. The dial had been stuck on _forever_ for the longest time, yet it hardly took a strain to turn it to the _different_ setting.

"Did you hang out with Dad?" Nessie wondered.

"Yes."

"How was it?"

Not wanting to use the word _different _again, Bella exchanged it for something else. "It was interesting. He's so fragile now. I know it's been months since he changed, but it's still a bit hard to get used to. He's not nearly as quick, you know, and he's just so warm."

"So it's kind of like me and Jacob?"

"Something like that."

"What did you guys do today?" Nessie wondered. "Lay in a grassy field?"

Caught red-handed, Bella furrowed her brow. "How do you know about that?"

Nessie giggled. "Uncle Jasper clued me in on it."

"I'm gonna have to kick his ass for eavesdropping. And, well, we did do that for a while. Renesmee, I don't know if you've done this or not, but it's very interesting to just _look_ at someone."

"I do that everyday."

"No, I mean really _look_ at them, and notice all that they are. It was so incredibly difficult for me to wrap my head around all that he is now. Your father... He's human. He's a living, breathing human being now."

"That must be quite the adjustment for you," Nessie remarked.

"It is," Bella said. "I promise. He has blood running through him, he has green eyes, he has to eat and use the restroom regularly, and... he is just. So. Warm. It's astonishing."

"What does that feel like to you?"

Bella shook her head and bit her lip as she stared out the window into the darkness. "Nothing. It feels like nothing. I can hardly touch him without him... without him _reacting so strongly. _He freaks the hell out, all the time. I don't think he trusts me, Renesmee."

Renesmee's voice was bleak. "Why?"

Bella inhaled deeply. "I mean it when I tell you this, Renesmee, and I hope to God that you never share this with anybody else, but he is much stronger than I am. He has a lot more restraint than I do. I think he's _terrified_ of me."

"Mom, I highly doubt—"

"I don't understand how he dealt with all of this so long ago," Bella continued, going on a tangent. "I don't know _why _he decided to deal with all of this, either, but he did. He took that chance for me, and ran that risk for so long, thinking he was a monster the entire thing. And you know what's especially astonishing about all of this? He was never a monster. He was anything but that. And suddenly, due to some dim-witted idea, I'm a monster. I am _the_ monster."

Bella paused, and Renesmee waited for her to be finished.

"You're not a monster, Mom," Nessie assured her, her voice shaking at the depth of her mother's confession. "None of us are. Things are just different. Do you think he'll go back?"

"I do," Bella replied. "I really do."

"You know him better than anybody," Renesmee pointed out. "Nobody can tell you otherwise. He's gonna go back, Mom. All you have to do is wait, and I know patience isn't really your thing, but..."

Bella calmed down enough to release a snicker. "Okay, you don't have to be a smart-ass, now."

"Totally not being a smart-ass," Nessie said, "but you're gonna have to be patient. And besides, men are slow, Mom. They need all the time they can get."

"Yeah, you're telling me."

They laughed, and a weight was lifted from Bella's chest. Perhaps the issue wasn't the way she had been feeling, but it was how she had kept it inside for months, building and building but never being relieved until just now. She had made a promise to Edward, though: she would give it a chance. And she was clearly giving everything a chance, so there was no reason to go to extremes as of now. He would go back eventually, and she knew it in her heart. She trusted his vibes better than his words. His words were why they she had been at the breaking point, after all.

So life as she knew it was just different now, and that beautiful forever was merely on hold. Renesmee was right: Bella knew Edward better than anybody else. Nobody could tell her otherwise.

* * *

_**A/N: **And that was the fourth (fifth, according to this site's system) chapter. Please let me take the time to apologize on behalf of my sins. I'm so sorry about the late update! School's already kicking my ass and the third week hasn't started yet. Thank you all for the reviews, favorites, and follows. Also, prepare yourself. The next chapter contains some Bella x Edward sexiness, or at least my attempt at it._

_Thanks again and until next chapter (as well as a happy birthday to Bella),_

_HalcyonSeasons_


	6. Chapter Five

**Chapter Five**

Bella watched Edward's chest rise and fall with each and every breath he took. As creepy as it would be in any other situation between two people of physically the same age, she understood the fascination in watching him sleep. She wondered what he dreamed about. She knew she would dream of him if she could; there was obviously no other way to do it. Selfishly, she hoped he dreamed of her, but not in the form of a nightmare. She wanted to be something light. Something beautiful and worth dreaming about.

One week after her talk with Renesmee, Bella was left home alone with a sleeping man. Renesmee and Jacob were in the main house with everybody else, so Bella decided she might as well be there, too. She quietly slipped out of the cottage.

Upon arriving at the main house, Bella found everybody in their respective places doing their designated activities in the living room and kitchen, though Renesmee was dozing off in Jacob's arms on the love seat.

Bella's gaze fell on the very human and very tired Rosalie and Emmett, who sat beside each other at the dining room table behind a bright laptop screen, very focused. Their blue eyes were bloodshot.

"How are you guys doing?" Bella asked.

Rosalie turned to look at Bella. "I'm running on four cups of coffee and unadulterated rage."

"Ooh," Bella said in mock horror. "Don't try to smash my face in or anything."

"Very funny." Rosalie's voice was bleak.

Bella glanced at the laptop screen. "What have you guys been doing that's deprived you of sleep?" she asked. "It's almost two A.M."

"We're looking for houses," Emmett replied. He removed his black-rimmed glasses only to briefly rub his eyes and put them back on. "There are just so many to choose from," he remarked, yawning.

"You guys should get some sleep," Bella suggested. "The houses aren't going anywhere within the next eight hours."

"We're in a bit of a rush to move out, Bella," Rosalie said icily.

Bella blinked. "Oh. Okay." She got out of her chair. "Carry on, then."

"Thanks," Rosalie said.

Even when she wasn't physically cold, she remained an ice queen. _Fucking incredible._

* * *

"Are you ever going to tell me where you're going?" Bella asked the next morning, staring at Edward as he tied the laces of his black sneakers.

Edward straightened up, and with his eyes looking as green as ever, he looked down at her. He smiled and put his hands on her cheeks. "Just hanging out with Emmett," he said.

She pursed her lips. "Promise?"

"I promise." Then he brought his soft lips down to her cool forehead. She gave him a microscopic smile in return.

"Are you ever going to kiss me on the mouth?" she asked him.

"You sure do ask a _lot _of questions," he said.

"It's a good thing I'm looking for a _lot_ of answers then," she replied in the same tone. "So, are you?"

He thought about it, cocked his head, and gave her a quick, chaste peck on the lips, so brief that she could hardly make her move.

Then she laughed, shaking her head. "You're so damn funny," she told him. "C'mon, you can kiss me for real, Edward. I won't bite."

He bit his lip, entirely serious. "No," he said firmly.

She sighed and put her hands on her hips. It was her classic stance. "God, Edward, you're making me feel like I'm in high school again," she told him. "You make me feel like I have something to be ashamed of."

"You know I don't want you to feel that way," he replied with a furrowed brow.

"Then don't make me. I mean..." She snaked her right hand to his hair, and her left to his back, causing him to stiffen, which she desperately tried to ignore. "I love you, Edward. And I want you. You know how much I still want you. You know that, right?"

He nodded. "I do, Bella. And I want you, too."

"Prove it."

"Emmett's waiting for me," he said bluntly, trying to pry her hands away from his body. She let him go. Excuses. He was made of them.

"I've been waiting longer," she said.

"I have to go."

"You could stay."

"I'd prefer not to."

"Is it that you don't want me or that you feel unsafe with me?"

"Neither, really, but the latter more than the former."

"Promise?"

He brought the back of her left hand up to his mouth and planted a kiss on it, as backwards as ever. "I promise."

He let her hand go, turned to the door of the cottage, and left. And it was then that she felt utterly, utterly helpless. There was one hope left, though, and she knew it.

* * *

Rosalie took a bite into her bagel "You're asking me about _sex_?" she asked between chews, totally bewildered.

Bella sat across from her, counting the crumbs on the blonde's plate. "Yeah," she replied solemnly. She didn't want to feel embarrassed; she and Rosalie were close, after all. They were supposed to talk about these sorts of things, even under their current conditions.

"Jesus, you don't have to be so embarrassed," Rosalie remarked.

"I am _not_ embarrassed," Bella said sharply.

"Sorry, sorry. So. Sex with Edward?"

Bella rolled her eyes. "With who else, Rose?"

Rosalie's eyes widened. "Okay, shit. Well, what do you want to know?"

"How can I make it happen?"

"Bella, what do you mean?"

"He doesn't even touch me without thinking I'm gonna murder him."

Rosalie wiped mustard away from the corner of her mouth as it hung agape. "Oh, God," she said.

"I know."

"He's not scared of you, is he?"

Bella shook her head sadly. "I don't want to think so, but he might be."

"You just have to be comfortable with him. He could get used to it."

"You really think so?"

"No," Rose said honestly, "but you guys are a couple of special snowflakes, anyway. Anything could happen."

"Okay, but when it comes down to the actual act," Bella said, "what do I do?"

"Well, not cowgirl unless you're trying to kill him."

"We've never even done that," Bella admitted.

"You could try—" Rosalie stopped herself. "Wait, you haven't even tried _cowgirl_?"

"Not that I can remember," Bella said.

"Have you guys ever done anything besides missionary?"

"We tried sixty-nine once, but that didn't really work out."

Rosalie put her hands over her mouth. _"Oh. My. God._"

"Rose!" Bella cried. "Could you please, _please_ try to help me out here?"

"I am," the blonde said. "I really am trying."

"This is literally the only time I'm asking for your help, Rosalie." Bella mentally backtracked and remembered when she had initially gotten pregnant. "This is the first time in a long time," she corrected herself. "And I'm serious."

Bella definitely was serious; Rosalie could see it in her eyes. The desperation was painfully real, and it made Rosalie feel bad for Bella. She had to be struggling; why else would she come to Rosalie?

"I'm not sure what I can do to help you," Rose admitted, "and I'm sorry about that, but I think you should speak with Tanya. She and her sisters are the originally succubi. You know that, right?"

Bella nodded. "Yeah," she said slowly, cautiously, "but I'm not trying to kill Edward."

"Talk to Tanya," Rose said. "She'll help you more than I can, I'm sure of it."

"It's your ass if she doesn't," Bella warned her.

Rosalie smiled wickedly. "Try me," she replied.

* * *

Bella finger-combed her hair as she waited for Tanya to answer the phone, gazing at a portrait of she-didn't-know-what hanging in the cottage kitchen. This was the third time Bella was calling, all because she couldn't stand to be ignored, but she couldn't stand to be without sex even more. It was almost as bad as going without food. _Edward's just gonna fucking kill me_, she thought.

With time, Bella had considered plenty of different complications with Edward—like how he would get tired and hungry and could get injured and all of that—but for some reason, the idea of not having sex with him had just never hit her. She'd just thought he'd been waiting until he settled into his humanness, but that wasn't the case, apparently. And it drove her _crazy_. If he really wanted her as much as he'd said he did, then it must have driven him just as crazy. She'd feel bad if it didn't, and feeling bad was such an incredible burden for her to carry.

"Pick up, pick up, pick up..." Bella murmured, and, like magic, Kate answered the phone.

"Bella?" she answered.

"Hey, Kate," Bella greeted her. "Would you put Tanya on the line?" She was careful not to say _your sister_. Even dead for over a century, Irina was still Kate and Tanya's sister. To ignore her would be, to them, a gesture ruder than flipping them off.

"Is somebody in trouble?" Kate asked. "I mean, if not, a _how are you?_ would have indicated the casualness."

"Sorry," Bella apologized weakly. "I just got so focused. Nobody's in trouble, though. I would just like to speak with Tanya."

"I'll put her on," Kate said. "Hold on for a second."

"Thanks."

Tanya was on the line within moments. "Hello, Bella," she said.

Bella sat up even straighter in her chair, the straightest she could possibly sit. "Hi, Tanya."

Tanya's voice was similar to a kitten's purr, in that it was warm and soft. "Is everything all right?"

"Yes," Bella replied. "Everyone's fine and healthy and..." She sighed. "I just needed your help with something."

"What is it?"

Tanya wasn't Rosalie; Tanya could only handle Bella's awkward bullshit for so long. Bella started to babble. "I'm just going to be blunt about this and because—"

"Then be blunt, Bella. Please, just tell me what you need help with."

"I need to have sex with a human without killing him."

Tanya was silent. So was Bella.

"Oh," Tanya said, her voice at its normal, high tone, like she was presented with these kinds of pleads from hopeless, sex-hungry vampires everyday.

"Oh?" Bella asked.

"I thought you were going to ask me for help with something impossible," Tanya claimed, and then they both laughed. The tension between them thawed out a bit.

"So you're trying to have sex with Edward, I presume?" Tanya asked.

"You don't have to his name," Bella said. "But yes."

"Everyone can hear you, anyway," Tanya reminded her. "You don't have to be so embarrassed."

_I'm hardly even embarrassed_, Bella wanted to say, but she held her tongue and focused on her goal instead. "Okay," she said. "So, what do I do?" She omitted the emotional aspects, the aspects of Edward being too afraid to touch her, because nobody could fix those parts but Bella. Only she had the tools.

"I don't want you testing this out," Tanya said, "because, quite frankly, Edward means a lot to all of us, and if he was killed in an accident like this, we'd all be devastated."

"Yes, of course," Bella agreed.

"So I'll try it first," Tanya decided. "I haven't been with a human man for a while, but sometimes they live, though I never anticipate on them living."

"Right."

"If you'll give me, say, an hour and a half," Tanya continued, "then that will give me the time to be with a human man for a little while. I'll get back to you once I'm finished, okay?"

"Okay." Bella felt a weight being lifted from her chest. "Thank you so much, Tanya."

"Anything, Bella," she said. "We all have needs."

Bella successfully laughed awkwardly, one of her many skills. "Thanks," she said again.

"You're welcome. I'll talk to you later."

"Bye." Bella hung up and set her cell phone down on her lap. She pressed her lips together and waited. There was nothing to possibly do but wait. With all that waiting, Bella surely realized that she loved Tanya. She could do anything. She made things happen. She got shit done.

Out of all the things the iPhone 67 could do, it couldn't make time fast forward, which was all that Bella wanted. She could see Tanya now, getting ready to seduce a blissfully oblivious man, only he would live. He would live, and Edward would live. That was all that mattered.

Tanya wouldn't even have to try to seduce the man, when Bella actually thought about it. All she had to do was say hello, bat her eyelashes, and _bam_. Old school femininity, as boring as it could be, was still in. Technology and fashion had evolved over time, as well as art and pop culture, but straight men hadn't; they were still the same, willing to ejaculate into anything that had the right parts and moved. Bella had never felt more thankful for the common straight male stupidity.

An hour and a half passed, and Bella ended up waiting for two by the time her phone lit up and vibrated on her lap. She answered it instantly. "How'd it go?" she asked urgently.

"It went well," she said. "For accuracy, I chose a man of about the same body type, weight, and age of Edward. He lived, but—"

Unable to contain herself, Bella exploded with a giant, "_Yes!_"

"But," Tanya continued, "you have to be careful. _Extremely_ careful. I need you to have self-control, or at least as much as possible for you. Do _not_ make any sudden or jerky movements. Go slow, and if you must build speed, then don't go too fast. Let him go as fast as he wants, since he can't hurt you, but you have to be as careful as possible. And _please_, Bella, for the love of all that is holy, do not graze your teeth along any part of him, anywhere. Ever. And that's about everything."

"Wow," Bella said with a sigh. "That's it?"

"Yes."

"Tanya, you are incredible."

Tanya laughed a high one that resembled the sound of a bell. "It's one of my best qualities," she said, "now go."

"All right," Bella said with a smile. "Thank you again."

"You're very welcome."

Bella hung up, and stood on her feet. She didn't end up going anywhere; she only paced around the living room, thinking, thinking, thinking. She knew the mechanisms (to basically be some kind of toy), but the actual seduction part would take some time, as well as the most important part: the security. Edward wasn't secure with her; she saw it in his eyes every time she touched him. The slight fear was easy to read, and the intensifying of his pulse gave her away.

She felt like a clumsy little teenager again, only she knew all about the seduction. She knew how to get his blood boiling with desire and all of that sexy stuff; that was the easy part. But then there were emotions—she didn't know the slightest thing about those anymore. Perhaps Edward was just sensitive, because real people weren't very emotional in general. Bella had grown out of her emotional sensitivity with time, and Edward had had more time to grow out of his. Maybe some things just didn't change.

Edward didn't come home until the late afternoon, and he found Bella on the couch. Her nose was in a book, but her mind was someplace else. "Hey, love," he greeted her, looking heavenly in a gray button-down, dark-wash jeans, black sneakers, and a slight July tan.

Getting comfortable, he slipped off his shoes and sat on the couch. She set her book down on the coffee table and made some more room for him, and he quickly occupied it. It wasn't that he was particularly afraid to be alone with her; he was just very cautious. She had always been more temperamental than him when she wasn't solidly even. And Edward was willing to be comfortable with Bella. Security wasn't far away from what he was doing now.

Because passive-aggression wasn't sexy to him and she had her mind set on a specific goal, she smiled at him and asked, "How was your day?"

"I had a good one," he replied, relaxing into the couch, focusing on comfort. "Emmett and I went racing."

"With the land rockets?" Bella asked.

"Yeah."

"Were they fast?"

His voice became lower. "They were so fast."

Land rockets could go up to nine hundred miles per hour, and both Bella and Edward knew that his heart was beating at least three times as fast. His heart pounded, and she could feel it radiating from him.

"I love you," she suddenly told him, looking into his eyes and nowhere else. "And I don't want to frighten you," she continued. "Ever."

"You don't frighten me," he told her.

"I don't?"

He licked his lips and stared at hers. "No. Not at all."

"Okay, good," she whispered. "Let me try something."

Then she closed her eyes, and for the first time since he'd changed, she put her hand on the back of his neck and he didn't flinch. He sighed instead, and closed his own eyes.

Careful not to move very quickly, she brought her lips up to the corner of his mouth, gave a peck, and then moved to the other corner. It drove him wild on the inside. And then she moved her lips to his, moving slowly.

He kissed her back, and when she opened her mouth, he stiffened up and close his completely.

"Trust me," she whispered, her hand slightly playing with his hair. "Just trust me, okay?"

"Bella, I..."

"Try," she said. "For me. I tried for you."

It was true. He remained still until he eventually agreed. "Okay."

She continued kissing him, parting her mouth and legs. He helped her hoist her legs up onto the couch. Moving her other hand to his back, she laid on her own back, sinking deeper into the couch.

On his hands and knees, he broke away from her mouth and brought his lips down to her throat. She released a groan and separated her legs even more for him to move lower.

At first he merely kissed her throat, but then he moved to the other side of it—the left side—and started sucking, swirling his tongue in circles against her skin.

"You can undress me if you want," she told him. "You know I don't mind."

He chuckled into her skin before tugging off his own shirt and throwing it onto the living room floor. "I know," he said._  
_

_My fucking God_, she thought as she caught a look at him.

Then he moved his hands down to his belt buckle, undid it, pulled his jeans down, and stepped out of them. In his dark blue boxer briefs, completely present, he was beautiful. Despite being human, he was still beautiful, and it made Bella want to cry.

And then he was on his knees again, but his hands were on the button of Bella's jeans. He brought one hand to the bottom of her shirt and pushed it up, exposing the skin beneath her bellybutton. The pit of her stomach was stirring already, but when he kissed her on her lower stomach, her head began to stir as well.

One hand on the button of her jeans, he was quiet—and focusing on his breathing—when he finally unbuttoned her jeans and tugged them down as fast as he could, along with her panties. They didn't make it past her knees.

Bella bit her lip and waited. He took her wrists together with one of his hands in one move while bringing them over her head and kissing her on the mouth in another. The skin-to-cloth contact on both their upper and lower halves drove her mad. There were just a few layers to go, but so many at the same time. With a free hand, he tucked a lock of hair behind her ear, and then brought his lips to her ear.

"Be still," he whispered. "Keep your arms up and back. Don't move your legs." She opened them further on command. He laughed airily, and she laughed with him.

He backed away and brought his body further down hers, one of his legs off the couch. With his hands on her knees, he started kissing her at her inner left thigh, making identical patterns to the ones on her throat.

"Have you ever thought of tying me up?" she jokingly asked, staring down at his head of bronze hair.

"No," he said easily, between kisses that moved higher. "I'm very traditional, find bondage very risky, and I also know that you'd just break the bonds, anyway."

"Total waste of money," she said. "Gotta stay resourceful."

"Always," he agreed. And he moved his mouth to where she'd wanted it all along.

At the initial entrance, she gasped suddenly at the warmth and moved her arms down to his head, gently pushing it forward. He removed his mouth for a split second and looked up at her. "Arms back."

With her arms back, Bella quickly got used to the contrast between hot and cold, or scorching and freezing. Once she did, she began to slightly rock her hips, but not enough for him to worry. He moved his mouth there like how he would on her face, if not more. Against her, he was burning up.

He slowly but surely took her to the edge with every subtle movement. At one point, she swore he was mouthing words in French. He had to be. Whimpering and slightly arching her back, she reclaimed the nerve to speak again. "Is it," she began, between heavy breaths, "okay if I—?"

Edward nodded and continued, bringing his hands away from her knees and onto her bare hips, rocking them with more force.

Bella, with her mouth slightly hung open and her eyes shut tight, released a sharp moan and clenched her legs into Edward's torso. He shuddered harshly.

"Oh, shit," she said, her voice quivering, and quickly widened her legs again so they were no longer touching him. "Oh, God," she cried. "Oh God, oh God, oh God." She sat up, backing up on the couch. He sat up, too, and backed away enough for her to close her legs.

"Oh, _God_," she repeated. "Are you okay?"

He looked perfectly fine, but internal bleeding didn't show in one's face. "I'm fine," he said quietly.

"Oh my God, do I have to take you to Carlisle?" she asked, refusing to calm down.

"No," he said, louder. "I'm fine."

"We should—"

"Bella, I'm _fine_." He had always hated it when she had assured him that she was "fine," but there was no other way to put it.

She pulled her panties and jeans up. _This was a horrible idea,_ she told herself. _This was all just a big mistake._

"Are you embarrassed, Bella?" he asked with pure confusion upon his face.

"Everybody's been assuming I'm embarrassed," she replied.

"What?"

"Nothing."

"Bella, _are_ you embarrassed?" he asked again. "Please be honest with me."

She pulled her legs up to her chest and looked past him, staring at a spot on the wall behind him. "If you're asking me if all of this is causing me shame," she said, "then yes. I feel very shameful."

"Why?" he asked. "Have you always felt this way?"

She bit her lip and shook her head, still not looking directly at him. "Not since you..."

"Since I changed?"

She nodded and closed her eyes.

"And why do you feel this way?"

She said nothing.

"Tell me, Bella. Look at me."

She refused.

"_Look at me_," he said, his tone serious.

She opened her eyes and stared at him.

"Tell me why," he demanded. "Tell me why you feel this way."

"It's because it feels like a game," she admitted. "Like loving you—and you loving me, too—is a giant waiting game, where we're waiting for one of us to get hurt. We keep testing each other until I have hurt feelings or you're internally bleeding or dead on the floor. It's not working, Edward. I don't want to play anymore."

He inhaled deeply. "This isn't a game, Bella," he told her. "We're not playing any sort of twisted game where we're waiting on each other to reach limits."

"Well, how do I know, then?" Bella asked, her voice loud and piercing. "All this stupid, _stupid_ shit where we try things out for the hell of it isn't working. It's not fucking working. What if it gets worse? Then what? Are you still going to give me cute little kisses on the cheek, telling me it's oka—?"

He interrupted her by planting a kiss on her lips. It was a real kiss this time.

She waited for him to be finished, remaining absolutely still, and then she sighed. "You can't just kiss me and expect things to be okay again," she said.

"Who said things were ever _not_ okay?" he countered.

She pouted her lips. "You're delusional."

He raised his eyebrows. "You're overreacting."

She shook her head. "You're hurt. Don't try and tell me you didn't totally palpitate when—"

He kissed her forehead. "I'm okay."

She tightened her arms against her legs. "You're repetitive and slightly annoying, that's what you are."

"_Now_ I'm hurt," he said.

She rolled her eyes. "Edward, you're too much."

He got off the couch and started to put his clothes back on. It was almost as sexy as watching him take them off—almost. Then he laid down on the floor. "Oh, really, now?"

"_Way _too much," she confirmed.

Laying on his back, he put his hands behind his head. Quiet and staring up at the ceiling, he relaxed. He wished he had Jasper's power in that way; he would get Bella to relax with him.

Edward could fall asleep right her, right now, just to end the perfect moment. He wished Bella could join him—he wished she could so much that it hurt a little, made him throb, or perhaps those were just the pending bruises on his sides. (He really was slightly injured—just a little sore, but nothing to be worried about.)

Maybe that was their problem, though, and had always been their problem even as it was more challenging now: they couldn't bring themselves to respect each other's decisions. They could compromise—though not now, under their circumstances—and complaining would still ensue until they both had their fill, except, for some wild reason, he was more even. But the only acceptable compromise for Bella that Edward would think of now would be if he changed back tonight, and he didn't want that. He still had things he wanted; he was still allowed to. And it hurt him somewhere deep down, too, but he didn't want to focus on it. He was brand-new. Everything was brand-new. He had just never felt so completely guilty of causing Bella jealousy or resentment or the impending feelings if they weren't already there.

So he wouldn't fall asleep. Knowing Bella, she'd ooze with white-hot jealousy, or sad, sad, depressing, black sorrow.

"Can I ask you something?" she suddenly said. She stared down at Edward from the couch.

"Anything."

"Was it...?" The hesitation hung in the air. "Was it the same for you as it was for me?"

"What we did today?"

"Yeah."

"Are you asking me, Bella, if I've ever faked it when _you_ were human?"

"Precisely."

"No," he answered.

"Not even once?"

"Never. It was real, Bella. It was all real. It's still real."

And he laid there, just like that. Real.

* * *

_**A/N: **I'm really trying hard to update this story on Tuesdays or the weekends. Those are my days off, and it kills me when I don't have time to update during the rest of the week. So you can expect weekly updates from me. Anyway, thank you for reading this chapter! It took me a while to get my thoughts together in order to write it; I just had so many new ones coming in. The next chapter will actually feature Jacob and Renesmee, according to my notes, but anything could happen._

_Thank you so much for all the hits, follows, favorites, and reviews. I can't wait to share more._

_Much love,_

_HalcyonSeasons_


	7. Chapter Six

**Chapter Six**

Flicking on the bathroom light switch, Edward yawned deeply with his eyes almost shut. He blinked, and then, through unclear eyes with plenty of crust to pick out of them, he looked into the mirror and was still surprised with what he saw. He always hoped he would get used to it, but perhaps this was just God reminding him that Bella wasn't in the wrong, and that this wasn't permanent.

But what if he wanted it to be permanent? What was wrong with that?

He sighed aloud. _Everything_, he thought, his own voice being the only one in his head. _Everything is wrong. _He could only lie to himself and Bella for so long, but the truth remained as true as ever. They were growing apart. Both Edward and Bella had always been rather dismissive, but never to each other until now. These days, life was different. The motionless were finally moving.

_Get moving, get moving_, Edward told himself. _Keep it moving._

He ran his hand over a light at the sink, and cold water started running from the faucet. Placing his hot hands underneath it, he felt instantly relieved. These hot, summer nights of mid-July were going to scorch him. Cooler mornings were his saviors.

Edward leaned over the sink, splashed water over his face, and then got a good view of his face, up close and personal.

Being human was amazing, but being seventeen-years-old again was just _agonizing. _

He liked to eat whatever he wanted, and he never gained any weight, but all of the fat had managed to be converted to pimples on his face. It was just pimples, pimples, and more fucking pimples for Edward, and the end couldn't come soon enough. This was probably God reminding him again that Bella wasn't in the wrong, and punishment for devouring more bacon cheeseburgers than humanly possible, but that was his favorite food; it was merely inevitable.

Edward was thankful for stubble, though; the hair along his jaw concealed the worst of it all, and Bella never verbally complained, so it couldn't have been that bad. But pimples were ugly parts of being human, and he had never been very concerned with beauty in the first place. Routinely, he applied acne cream to his face, thoroughly rinsed it off, and then patted his face dry with a towel.

Running a hand through his clean hair, he padded off to the kitchen with food on his mind and the thought of his solitude on the back burner. He was practically a single man these days. Bella, while not avoiding him, was still very dismissive, often making a short effort to interact with Edward only to cut it off soon enough. Ever since their rendezvous last week which ended with purple bruises on his sides that took days to heal, she didn't bother with him for too long, while he had grown more comfortable with her only to be left cold and in the dark. They had to have had some type of shared special ability; they were just too damn good at flipping personalities and never being on the same page. They were hardly ever on the same chapter.

And then his daughter, Renesmee, was wrapped up in her own business that he couldn't get through to. Renesmee, similarly to her mother, wasn't very open at all. Closed off and always with Jacob, those two were one and the same. When he threw in Bella, the three were a force that Edward would never decipher. Being human

_Fucking amazing_, Edward thought, swinging open the refrigerator door and taking out a jar of strawberry jam. _Fucking enlightening._

* * *

"Visiting hours of ten to six are _so_ unreasonable," Jacob remarked as Renesmee parallel-parked next to the curb.

"Dealing with depression without treatment is _so_ unreasonable," Renesmee replied, straightening out the car.

"Living for over a hundred years without getting older for most of the time is _super_ unreasonable" was what threatened to roll right off his tongue, but he kept his snark to a minimum. Nessie had a lot of things to be upset over, and him adding onto them would be obnoxious. Then again, he had a lot of things—way more things—to be upset over, too. They were such a sad little couple, but his sadness mattered a little bit more today.

Nessie turned the car off and turned to him. "I'm sorry about the way I went about this," she said, "but I want you to get better. I _need_ you to get better."

"I know," he said. "I believe you."

"And I believe _in_ you," she told him. "I want you to try."

"You know I'll try."

"I want you to try the best that you can."

"Of course, honey."

She gave him a strange, sad smile. "All right," she said quietly.

"You'll pick me up in an hour, right?" he asked.

"Yeah, that's the plan."

He unbuckled his seat belt and started to get out of the car.

"I love you," she told him.

"I love you, too," he replied. And he meant it. He meant it entirely.

She waited until he was completely out of view before she started driving away. Having made plans to go shopping with Alice, she looked forward to them, but she worried more about Jacob than anything else. He was finally getting therapy since being diagnosed with clinical depression about a week ago (and taking part in a joke of an intervention shortly after), and she prayed to some form of a god that it would work. She missed him. She could easily bet money that _he_ missed him. That was more important. The acceptance of the fact that he was more focused on himself as opposed to her these days was slowly but surely settling in. She was glad, though.

And she felt _terrible_ about it. More than the usual terrible, too.

Renesmee should have done the research like anybody else would have. She shouldn't have taken everything so personally. That was what supportive girlfriends (if that was what she was to him) of depressed boyfriends did: they remained objective and didn't make assumptions, even if it was the easiest thing in the world. Jacob didn't deserve laziness from her, though; he deserved just the opposite.

She turned up the radio and rolled down her window as she drove far past over the speed limit. She was like her father in that way. The men in her life were just too goddamn strange.

* * *

"At least you're both getting therapy today," Alice commented as she quickly swiped her debit card at the store cashier's machine and typed in her PIN code.

"Excuse me?" Renesmee asked, debating with herself on whether she should have gotten those violet stilettos she'd had her eye on ten minutes ago.

"He's getting his therapy for depression, and you're getting retail therapy," Alice clarified, getting her receipt from the cashier and starting to walk.

Renesmee rose an eyebrow at her. "Was that supposed to be funny?"

"Oh, Nessie, Nessie, Nessie," Alice said. "Relax your pretty little head. I meant that in a light manner, though I am glad Jacob's finally getting the treatment he's needed for a long time."

"You noticed?"

Alice nodded, and Renesmee wondered just when she'd change up her hairstyle. "We all noticed," Alice replied, "and the intervention you held the other night wasn't the best way to handle it."

"God, I am _such _an idiot."

Alice rolled her eyes. "You have got to get over all of that self-loathing bullshit, Ness. It's not good for you, you know."

"Well, it _was_ wrong of me," Nessie reminded her aunt.

"Yes, it was. He's clinically depressed, not addicted to meth. That intervention was the wrong way to treat him. Depression isn't an addiction."

"I know, I know. At least I know _now._"

"That's always a good thing."

They made their way out to Renesmee's car. Alice got into the passenger seat, and upon starting the car up, Renesmee wondered aloud, "Was he going to do anything if I hadn't called him out on it in front of everybody?"

"What do you mean?" Alice replied.

"Alice, did you... _see_ anything?"

She shook her head. "No," she said sternly. "I couldn't see anything concerning you or Jacob even if I tried."

"Sorry."

Alice turned to Renesmee. "Don't be sorry."

"All right," Renesmee said. "Okay. How do you feel about all of this stuff? Besides Jacob. All that's going on with—"

"Your dad, Rosalie, and Emmett?" Alice prompted. "I was bitter about it for a long time, but I don't mind Rose and Emmett. At least they can agree on what they want and are happy with each other's decision. I don't mind what they're doing at all. It calls for less quality time—or at least being more careful with them—but dealing with your mother when she was human was the same type of situation."

"And about my parents..."

"Your parents are a mess, Renesmee, but you know that already."

_Like hell I do_, Nessie thought. But she put up a challenge, anyway. "How so?"

"You don't need me to tell you about how they disagree on _everything._ I feel it every time I'm around the both of them. Separately, though, it's like they're entirely different people. They're both very carefree when they're not together, but still coexisting, just in different spaces. They laugh a little more, knowing that the other person can't get jealous because the other person isn't there. They usually handle their issues differently, and they're always resolved soon enough. It's not the same now."

"Nothing is the same," Renesmee replied. "Nothing's been the same for a long time."

"Your mother has hope, though," Alice said, probably just to lift Renesmee's spirits. "Jasper told me just yesterday. She thinks your father is going to go back sometime later, but—who am I kidding? I don't know much about your parent's relationship. Your mother hardly speaks with me anymore, despite us being on the same side of the cure discussion. And your father... well, he's busy being human. He doesn't have time for the rest of us who aren't like him. He's too busy doing important, human things, like eating. And sleeping."

As much as Renesmee loved her Aunt Alice and her big, unfiltered mouth, it had been enough. She didn't need to be reminded that her parents were no longer the couple that she had bragged about to herself when she was a kid. They were no longer the couple that Renesmee would have killed to bring to some elementary school function, only to say, _Those are my parents and they're more in love than your parents. _That sappiness, that photo album of awkward, lovey-dovey pictures from over a hundred years ago didn't mean a thing today. Renesmee couldn't be that angry. She had other things to be concerned with. Her parents had always been melodramatic. Who the _fuck_ was she kidding?

She shouldn't have had to hear through Alice that her parents' relationship was going down the drain because of his stupid decision. She hadn't taken a side before (merely because she didn't like to pick and choose between her parents), but she was completely on her mom's side now. Her mother had done nothing wrong. Though she still loved him, her father was responsible for all of this.

Renesmee should have known better. For someone who had been to college plenty of times and was even going now, she sure was _stupid._ She was a fucking idiot. Love wore off—it didn't matter if her parents had both been immortal for such a long time. There wasn't a guide to immortal love, and even if there was, there definitely would not have been a disclaimer that ensured that love between immortals was immortal. Love, in general, was some bullshit.

She had been such a believer in the world and the beings that occupied it. It had been so easy to see the beauty in everything and anything, but now that there was pure, unadulterated ugliness occupying her own world, she didn't care. She didn't care anymore. All that she had to care about was Jacob, all because he was worth it. He had been a form of beauty in front of her eyes since day one, even as he had been fighting his own inner wars for a really long time. He had a thousand wars in his mind while she floated in a nomadic state of madness, with eyes but unable to see what was going on before her. She had ears, but hadn't been able to hear the truth.

The truth was that the real world was full of shit. That should have made itself clear from the very beginning.

* * *

_**A/N: **Give me a moment. I'm just getting warmed up, and this was just a transition chapter to set the stage for a Nessie x Jacob arc. Expect a new chapter by Thursday._

_Thanks again,_

_HalcyonSeasons_


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